


Chatreuse Roses

by Misericordemika



Category: Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-08 04:25:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5483279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misericordemika/pseuds/Misericordemika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the night of the bachelor party thrown for Barry, Hal reflects on missed opportunities and finds an unlikely source of comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chatreuse Roses

**_7:00 p.m._ **

 

Hal Jordan arrived right on time at Wayne Manor, with two minutes to spare; the impressive building was a marbled complex that glimmered pale against the black skylines of Gotham. He tugged at his uncomfortable collar, the edges of which newly stiffened and chafed his throat. His boss and ex-girlfriend, Carol, had insisted that she pick out his suit when she had heard that the party was hosted by Bruce Wayne. As he slinked between the carefully pruned hedges and clipped lawn, he fisted his hands in his pockets. It was a party of four hours - only four - and he could do this for the sake of his best friend, for Barry.

 

Barry.

 

He swallowed hard, pushing back down the lump he refused to acknowledge.

 

_Barry._

 

The name drifted at the back of his mind like some memory that refuses to be forgotten. Lingering behind the shadow of a hedge by a trickling fountain, he quickly blinked away any weakness.

 

He had no fear - he was the bravest Green Lantern because he was never attached to anyone; he had never had anything to lose, and he was not about to start now. A few shaky breaths, and he reemerged back on the path as if he had simply took a turn to admire the garden.

 

“Welcome, Mr. Jordan,” Alfred greeted him at the door, hands poised to take his coat. If he had noticed Hal’s stiffened lips he gave no sign. For that, the pilot was grateful.

 

As the butler turned to run expert fingers across the wrinkles on rented coat, Hal appraised the manor; it was one thing to hear about the wealth of Bruce Wayne, but another to see for himself. It was not the kind of money that can be made in one lifetime, but the accumulation of generations of shrewd and intelligent family heads. It showed in the glitter of centuries-old wine gracing the shelves carved of even older trees. It seeped into the waxed floors and the lush carpets of velvet and silk. And of course, it graced the sleek and fluid movements of its current resident, and showed in the fighting style of the Dark Knight in a way both deadly and efficient.

 

In the centre of the visitor’s hall, a pillar of fresh flowers emanated an intoxicating scent that floated almost tangibly, mixed with trickles of laughter from previous arrivals. Hal took a deep breath, taking in the pleasant scent and happiness alike. But in his mind, the sweet flowers smelled foul, the happiness a mockery.

 

A rustle of fine fabrics, and Alfred was a trained half-a-pace behind his left elbow. The butler gestured to the flowers with a gloved hand. “Pick any which you prefer, sir.” He made a pointed look at Hal’s blank breast pocket.

 

“Just Hal, please.” He winced. The resplendence of the place didn’t suit him.

 

“As you wish.”

 

The pilot ran the tips of his fingers across the blooms. “A bit extravagant for a bachelor’s party, even for Bruce Wayne - don’t you think?”

 

The patient butler raised an eyebrow and did not answer.

 

Hal plucked a green rose from the arrangement and tucked it into his pocket, bringing a smudge of green against the dark fabric.

 

* * *

 

**_7:30 p.m_.**

 

Barry arrived late as usual, even though the party was for both him and Clark. By then Hal had downed an entire bottle of champagne and started tap dancing with Oliver on the magnificent dining room table, the centuries-old wine shelf quaking in fear.

 

“You are here,” Diana ruffled his blond hair fondly, a crimson lily in her chignon, the strands of which flowing graceful down the line of her neck to her red dress. “Youngest of us all yet the first to settle.”

 

“Cyborg and Billy are younger,” Barry smiled.

 

“Yeah but they aren’t here since they can’t drink,” she laughed. “You should have called us if there were trouble in Central. We’d have tied this up much sooner - no one should be required to nearly miss their own bachelor’s party.”

 

“Sorry.” Barry scratched the back of his head. “Am I the last one? Is Clark here already?”

 

“He can’t hold his liquor!” someone yelled from upstairs in response.

 

“I thought Superman is invulnerable?!” A confused voice chimed in.

 

“Must be the combination with oysters!” The first voice seemed to know everything.

 

* * *

 

**_8:00 p.m._ **

 

His best friend was glancing at him, Hal noticed as he gulped down his sixth shot of tequila. It was rude, he knew; he couldn’t put it off forever. Things had been slightly awkward between them, to say the least, ever since Barry formally entered a relationship with Iris. The woman was a looker, Hal admitted, with dark brown skin and a winning smile that makes her eyes sparkle; the way she looked at Barry made the speedster grin as if the world shone brighter around him, the sunlight glancing off of his golden hair.

 

Iris made Barry happy, and that was all that should matter to him as his best friend.

 

Hal tittered to his feet, accepting the new glass of champagne someone pushed into his hands.

 

“Hey Barry,” he sauntered over.

 

Bruce frowned at him before taking a step back, allowing him to cut into his conversation with the speedster. He was the only one at the party besides Barry who was still sober.  

 

“Hal,” Barry’s eyes lit up, and Hal’s heart skipped a beat.

 

“Congratulations,” he stumbled over his tongue. The green rose on his breast trembled.

 

_Liar_ , it whispered.

 

“I wish you and Iris a long and happy life together.” He said each word carefully, as if emphasizing them would make them more genuine.

 

_Liar._

 

He was an idiot.

 

People had called him fearless - the Green Lantern with the strongest will; yet he was so fearful of losing Barry, so fearful of ruining their friendship, so _fucking_ fearful of settling down and committing to one single person - that he had let the love of his life slip right through his fingers.

 

He still remembered the night when he was drinking himself to a stupor after Carol broke up with him. Barry was there, sympathetically holding his shoulders and seeing to it that he doesn’t die from alcohol poisoning; without thinking, he had grabbed his best friend and kissed him full on the mouth.

 

And Barry had responded. The two of them pressed their bodies together, their chests fitting perfectly together, their lips hungrily seeking the crevices on their bodies. Hal had pushed Barry onto the couch, hands dipping under the edge of his shirt as his fingers danced over toned muscle.

 

Barry had moaned. The sound had jolted Hal’s mind, and he was suddenly aware of what they had been doing.

 

Hal had bolted.

 

Straight from his apartment he had flown, leaving Barry half-naked, confused, and hurt. It wasn’t until two months of intergalactic missions later that he had had the courage to clear his mind and return to Earth. He had chalked the night up to his drunkenness and spoke nothing of it. And Barry, good kind Barry, had never brought up how much Hal must have had hurt him, and their friendship had remained in tact, at least on the surface.

 

The lingering looks, the life-saving catches that pressed their bodies together more tightly than necessary, and the comforting hand when needed, however, stopped.

 

After another two months, Barry entered a relationship with Iris.

 

“Congratulations,” Hal said again, draining the champagne.

 

_Liar._

 

“Thank you.” Those blue eyes were clear and kind as a summer sky, and Hal felt something within break.

 

* * *

 

 

_**9:00 p.m.** _

 

At everyone else’s teasing, Clark, whose demeanour was so much more mellow compared to his Superman persona, shyly showed off the golden bands he had bought for his wedding with Lois.

 

A glass crashed onto the floor. Wine splattered across Bruce’s impeccable white shirt and a flying shard cut his cheek. He smoothly apologized, and ushered everyone to return to their conversations.

 

But Hal noticed the shadow in his eyes and the streak of green at his heart. He licked his lips as he studied the line of Bruce’s neck as the man finished his fifth glass in one single gulp. Noticing Hal’s stare, Bruce tilted his head and gave him a knowing smirk.

 

So he’s not the only idiot here tonight.

* * *

 

 

_**11: 00 p.m.** _

 

It was wrong, and they both knew it. They knew they weren’t whom they wanted; they didn’t even get along on the most basic level as friends. But tonight, something had changed, something had been broken.

 

Hot breath descended upon Hal’s neck as a hand grasped his hair and roughly pulled his head back. A bite to his neck, and he arched against Bruce’s prying hands.

 

Others have left, but the two of them lingered in the shadowy hall of the manor, groping, nibbling, _grinding_. Clothes shredded, strewn across the floor in a messy trail as they stumbled into the bedroom. The flowers came last, tossed onto the pillows like some tainted offering.

 

“Not going to… _ah,_ turn on the light?” Hal panted as he was slowly spread open. Coldness entered as two lubed fingers were pushed in. He arched off the bed, only to be held down by a forceful hand.

 

“Shut up,” growled Bruce, kissing him and swallowing his moan. His fingers curved, brushing against a spot that made a pleasant numbness crawl up his entire body.

 

“I suppose you are the _Dark_ Knight,” Hal retorted, teasing. He soon found himself roughly flipped over, a hand pressing his face deep into the pillow.

 

“ _Shut up,_ ” came the growl again, and Bruce entered him.

 

Hal felt the stiffening of the man’s body even as he thrusted, the hesitant kisses down his back as they moved in sync. Realization dawned. Turning his head around to look at Bruce, he whispered: “Okay Bruce, I trust you.”

 

A pause.

 

Hal heard an almost choked sigh as he was again flipped, this time his legs pushed wide as the thrusts sped up. A tongue pushed into Hal’s mouth, exploring it with desperate need. He stifled his own voice as he responded, as he allowed himself to be used, to be pushed over the edge. Having came first, he opened his eyes and studied the moving man above him as his eyes slowly got used to the darkness.

 

Bruce had his eyes closed, his expression almost grim as he thrusted. Hal reached out to touch the furrow between his eyebrows, and had his hand yanked back onto the pillow, the grasp so tight it surely had bruised.

 

A few more thrusts, and Bruce came deep within him, a choked “ _Kal-_ ” ghosting his lips so quietly that Hal almost didn’t hear him.

 

Almost.

 

Turning his face to the pillow, Hal felt the petals of the two green roses brush against his cheek.

 

A tear was finally allowed to fall.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything for a long time. Hope this turned out okay. Come talk to me on [my Tumblr](http://misericordemika.tumblr.com) / [Twitter](https://twitter.com/misericordemika) =D.


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